


Waiting for Love

by pkg4mumtown



Category: American (US) Actor RPF, Canadian Actor RPF, Keanu Reeves - Fandom, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alcohol, Artist Reader, Extreme cuteness, F/M, Motorcycles, Reader has a cat, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-05-13 22:12:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19260169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pkg4mumtown/pseuds/pkg4mumtown
Summary: Tumblr request: "Okay, here is an idea of Keanu x Reader. They met on an art gallery where the reader is presenting her artwork and of her colleagues introduce the reader to Keanu both of them have things in common like they enjoy riding motorcycles, talks about philosophy and so on. (If you put the reader that is more a cat person than a dog even tho she love animal I will love you)."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’m low key in love with Keanu’s short hair and leather jacket combo from a few years back, so forgive me ahead of time. I left some room to continue this just in case because I kinda fell in love with it, even if it took me forever to get rolling. Might be boring but I’m taking it slow for once, okay? (lol)

Photo of what I imagine him looking like in this one: [(x)](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/87/eb/7a/87eb7adabf69850abe02cccd453fe09f.jpg)

 

 

I groaned as my alarm blared, telling me to get my ass up and ready for one of the biggest art shows I’ve ever done. It wasn’t big in terms of the quantity of work I was presenting, but big in the sense that this was a more ‘esteemed’ show. Not to mention, the other artists showing their work had been established longer than I have. I befriended one of the artists, Becca, while setting up for this show. She took me under her wing and helped me get over my fears of today, as she had done this show a few times before.

_“Y/N, you can’t freak out too much. You deserve to be in this show. Some of the people attending this are just rich assholes who’ll be drunk and staring at pieces, so don’t be intimidated by them. You’ll know when a fellow creative mind shows up, I promise, some will show up.”_

You can say I was overjoyed when I found out her exhibition would be next to mine but separated by dividers like everyone was. Something about having someone familiar around eased my nerves slightly.

I reluctantly got out of bed, showered, changed, and readied myself face today. I ate something small to hold me over until I could find food at the show, knowing my stomach wouldn’t enjoy being full while nervous. I leant down in front of my cat’s food bowl, shaking it so it filled up. The noise summoned him, the cat rubbing up against my pant leg and leaving a trail of gray fur. I brushed it off as best as I could before scratching his head.

“I’ll be back later, Sage,” I cooed at him, my nerves easing slightly as I watched him push his face into my hand.

I reluctantly got up, straightening the pantsuit I decided to wear. I was nervous enough about the show, I wasn’t going to make it worse by wearing a dress and fighting with it all day. I got an Uber to the show, slightly bummed that I couldn’t ride my motorcycle to the show because of my attire but I didn’t want to look like a hot mess when I got there.

I arrived extra early, like all the artists were supposed to so that we could make sure everything was in order. I killed time by sitting at the small table in my exhibit, where we had business cards and other takeaways set up. As I scrolled through my phone, I heard the soft click of heels as Becca rounded the divider and entered my exhibit. I stood up to greet her, smiling at her bubbly, excited expression.

“Very professional,” she greeted, admiring the pantsuit.

“I didn’t want to sweat through a dress and risk being uncomfortable,” I sighed.

“It wasn’t a knock, Y/N, you wear it well,” she smiled comfortingly. “Is there anyone you know coming to the show?”

“I invited a few family members, but I won’t hold my breath,” I shrugged.

“Well, I have a friend coming that I _have_ to introduce you to. I think your work and his tastes align perfectly,” she stressed with a flash of her hands.

“ _He_ , huh?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Hey, he’s a great guy but I’m taken,” she brought her left hand up to point at her wedding ring. “You could definitely give it a shot, though,” she winked.

“I think I’ll pass,” I blushed.

“You won’t be thinking that when you see him, promise,” Becca laughed behind her hand.

“I’m already not looking forward to it,” I shook my head at her.

“Trust me, I know he’ll love your work. He’s coming by around one I think. If you need food or something, I’ll send my assistant out to get you whatever you need,” she offered, knowing we couldn’t really leave our exhibits and that I didn’t have an assistant.

An hour later, the event opened, and people poured in. I watched these well-dressed people as they passed me, some bouncing aimlessly between exhibits and some following a strict order. I placed myself near the entrance of my exhibit, greeting people as they entered and viewed my work, but the exchange never lasted for more than that. Becca was right, either a lot of these people stared and pretended to enjoy themselves or they simply came for the works more than the artists. I didn’t mind, since I didn’t have to talk much, and the show would still look good for my experience.

Two hours later, I was growing increasingly bored as I had only found one person interested enough in my work to strike up a conversation. While it only lasted about five minutes, it still gave me a bit of confidence that _someone_ had enjoyed themselves. I checked my phone, sighing when I realized I still had six hours left here. I secretly hoped Becca’s friend would be as interested as she said he’d be. I heard low volume screeching from Becca's exhibit, before realizing it was Becca, herself, making the noise.

“I’m so glad you could make it!” I heard Becca shout excitedly.

“Of course, how could I miss it?” a deep voice responded, which I assumed belonged to her friend.

I tuned out the rest of the conversation to ease my nervousness about meeting this mysterious friend of hers. Her voice pulled me back out of my head again as she increased volume.

“Dude, I have to introduce you to Y/N! You’re gonna love her work!” she told him.

“So, you keep saying, but I haven’t even seen yours yet, Becca,” the voice chuckled.

“Please, Charlie, you know what my art looks like,” she huffed, grabbing his arm and tugging him out of the exhibit.

“I honestly regret telling you that I had a friend who called me Charles,” he sighed.

I had turned around as I heard their footsteps rounding the divider, making myself look busy.

“Y/N!”

My head shot up as Becca shouted my name. My eyes flicked over her excited face before landing on the tall man next to her. I recognized him immediately. He was dressed simply unlike many people here, donning a well-worn leather jacket, a V-neck t-shirt, jeans, and brown boots. His dark hair was on the short side, but long enough to tell he hadn’t done anything to tame it after taking his helmet off, the one he currently held in his hand. His facial hair was grown enough to look as equally as scruffy as the hair on his head after a run in with the helmet. This was one of the biggest names in Hollywood showing up to a prestigious art show in plain clothes, and he couldn’t look any more endearing. I blushed as I realized I had been silently staring at the pair.

“Keanu,” his face broke out into a shy smile and stuck his hand out, “it’s nice to finally meet you. Becca has been talking about you non-stop for weeks.”

“Y/N,” I responded, shaking his hand. My blush deepened at his words, “It’s uh, it’s an honor to meet you Mr. Reeves.”

“Please, Keanu is perfectly fine,” he corrected.

_Yes, he is._

“I’ve gotta get back to my side, so have fun you two,” Becca announced her exit and left.

I cleared my throat as she disappeared, “Um, so, Becca didn’t tell me her friend was famous.”

“Sometimes it’s better that way,” he smiled almost sadly. “Tell me about yourself,” he requested and stepped closer to the hung artwork.

“I think I can tell you that through the art, might make it more interesting,” I answered, motioning him over to the first artwork on the wall.

Keanu squinted as he took the painting in, his eyes flicking over the title, _Freedom_ , and back to the painting. A smile formed on his face, as he deciphered the swift strokes and textured landscape. I nervously wrung my fingers together before speaking.

“The landscape is actually—” I started.

“PCH,” he finished, finally looking back at me. “You ride, don’t you?”

I nodded, “I do. It’s just so freeing and liberating, hence the title.”

“I completely agree,” he agreed, his eyes lighting up as he held his helmet up. “I ride on PCH often when I’m home.”

From there, conversation flowed easily as we made our way through the rest of the works. Keanu insisted on going through every work I displayed, the delight evident on his face. I knew, then, what Becca had meant about knowing when someone genuinely loved your work. After what felt like no time at all, but what was actually almost two hours, we approached the last work I had displayed.

“Ah, yes,” he sighed happily as he took the painting in. “This captures the true essence of our modern society. We are always so concerned with watching the bustling of others from behind all types of barriers. Meanwhile, we sit alone and in silence as our existence becomes meaningless,” he blurted out with his voice filled with mock amazement. A grin appearing on his face and his hand, naturally, came up to hide it from view.

I laughed along with him, “Oh, yea, totally. Exactly what I was going for, Keanu.”

“Or, you know, it’s just a cat staring out of a window,” he chuckled and brought his hands up to gesture to the painting.

“Your interpretation was way better than my intention,” I was smiling so widely that my cheeks burned in embarrassment.

“Nah, I was just joking,” he waved his hand, his smile never fading.

“Art is meant to be interpreted by the viewer, no?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

“I can’t argue with that,” he nodded, “So, what’s its name? I assume the cat is yours?”

I nodded, “His name is Sage, I rescued him from a kill shelter a few years ago.”

“That's admirable.”

“It broke my heart to see that he was scheduled to be put down. I had to take him, and he’s been a blessing in my life,” I continued, staring fondly at the painting.

“Do you prefer cats?” he asked curiously.

“I love both cats and dogs, cats just happened to fit my lifestyle better,” I clarified. “You?”

“I think I’m more partial to dogs, but I love both, too,” he answered, his voice cracking slightly as we’d talked for so long.

“Would you like a water?” I offered and pointed to the small table I had been at earlier. I walked slowly over to it as I continued talking, seeing him follow me.

“I can grab us a couple drinks from…” he trailed off as he pointed into the walkways, where every other aisle of exhibits had its own bartender. Unlike a lot of characters he played, his voice and eyes contained hints of emotion.  

I understood what he meant but declined anyway, “These are free,” I nodded my head towards the water, biting back a smile. “Plus, I don’t think the artists are allowed to drink.”

“Right, of course,” he mumbled, his eyes dropping slightly out of embarrassment as I grabbed two water bottles. He didn’t let his body language show it, but his slightly crestfallen expression said enough.

“I’ll let you buy me one later, though,” I spoke cautiously as I handed a bottle to him, hoping I had read the situation correctly. His eyes snapped back up, meeting mine while taking the bottle from me. His fingers brushed mine, sending tingles up my hand and causing me to retract my hand quickly.

“I’d like that,” he answered softly, a blush creeping up to his cheeks but hidden partially by his beard. The corners of his mouth lifted as he brought the bottle to his lips, forcing me to tear my eyes away from the way his lips wrapped around the plastic. “We should ride some time,” he spoke again after pulling the bottle away from his mouth.

My throat hitched at his choice of words, making me cough as I drank my water. Luckily, I didn’t make a fool of myself and spray it everywhere, solving the problem with a simple clearing of my throat.

“Motorcycles. We should ride our motorcycles together, some time,” he clarified, the hint of a smirk from before more prominent now.

“Yea, yea that’d be awesome,” I nodded, flustered that he caught on to the reason I choked.

“Maybe after this?” he gestured to the art around him.

“Uh, it ends at seven, but I’d have to go home and change,” I waved my hand down across the pant suit and heels.

“That’s not a problem, I’ve got time,” he shrugged. “You don’t have to take your stuff down?”

“Nah, the show is on for the whole weekend,” I flapped my hand dismissively at the hung art.

“Well, I’d be happy to take you home afterwards,” he offered.

“No, no I can’t ask you to do that! I can take an Uber home,” I held my hands up, trying to quell any urge he had to help me.

“I mean, you’re not asking; I’m offering. Plus, unlike the Uber… _I’m free_ ,” he placed his hand on his chest, looking at me with raised eyebrows. His eyes were playful as he used my earlier excuse against me.

I took a deep breath through my nose, my mouth betraying me and curling into a smile as I released my breath, “Okay.” My voice was softer than intended, but I continued anyway, “I appreciate it, Keanu.”

He laughed, waving his hand at me, “I’m being selfish, honestly.”

“Yea, okay,” I snorted. “You should definitely check out the rest of the show, though. They have Rembrandts over there,” I directed, pointing to the other side of the building.

He feigned hurt, gasping dramatically, “Are you getting rid of me?”

“Yes, actually. There are a lot of great works here, too many to waste all of your time in my little exhibit,” I waved my hand out to the rest of the building.

“Oh, please,” he huffed, now understanding how other people feel when he deflects compliments onto other people. “The art isn’t what’s keeping me here, now.”

My face heated up fast under his gaze, but the blush quickly turned into a deep red out of embarrassment as my stomach growled loudly in the mild silence. My lips retracted into my mouth, hoping that he hadn’t heard it, or that he didn’t think it was something else.

“Hungry?” he questioned, trying to hold back a chuckle but failing.

“I’m fine, really.”

Keanu gave me the sassiest, most done look I’ve ever seen. He snatched my phone off the table, handing it to me, “Unlock it.” I hesitated. “Please,” he urged.

I did as he asked, then felt him slide the phone out of my fingers. I watched him type briefly, then bring the phone to his face and stick his tongue flat out of his mouth. He tapped on the phone again a few times before handing it back to me.

“I’ll go look at everything else, _only_ if you promise to text me whatever you want me to pick up for you,” he stated smugly.

“ _Fine_ ,” I half-groaned. This man and his kindness were going to be the death of me.

“Excellent,” he laughed, his adorable grin plastering his face again. This time, he didn’t hide his smile behind his hand and I was able to admire it, before he caught on and closed his lips while blushing at the appreciation. “Keep an eye on this for me, yea?” he asked, setting his helmet on the small table.

“Sure,” I nodded, placing my hand on top of the helmet in confirmation.

“Thanks,” he expressed as he moved to place his hand on the helmet, too, but stopped as he felt my hand under his. His hand lingered for a second, but it was withdrawn as he began stepping away, out of the exhibit. “You better text me,” he pointed my way, “or no drinks for you!”

Keanu disappeared around the divider and I heard him speak briefly to Becca. He must have told her about the potential drinks later because she gasped loudly and squealed at whatever he said. I bit my lip, smiling at the thought of what was to come. I hadn’t been out in a while, let alone on a date—if that’s what this even was. I just hoped that I wouldn’t do anything dumb or anything that would be unpleasant to him. I glanced down at my phone, unlocking it and seeing his contact as simply, _Keanu_ , with the ridiculous picture he had taken. My fingers hovered over the screen before finally typing and sending an order.

_“You got it,”_ was his only response before I made myself busy with the people around me.

I slid my phone in my pocket and waited patiently for him to come back, whenever he was done. These next four hours couldn’t go fast enough. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to do another part for this because why not?? Still slow, but cute. Hope you enjoy!

Keanu came back around to drop off the sandwich I had asked for, staying and eating with me. We chatted about what works he looked at on the way to the food and back, discussing what exhibits he just had to see before the day was over. He took off after we finished eating, leaving me alone with quiet viewers again. I was nervous for the show to be over for the day, but excited at the same time and resorted to checking the time on my phone every twenty minutes. When it seemed like the show was never going to be over, Keanu came back a few minutes before closing. He animatedly told me about all the exhibits he visited, what his favorite works were, and asked questions about media he was unfamiliar with. I noticed people starting to leave, so I checked the time and saw that it was seven on the dot.

“I’ll see you guys later!” Becca shouted at us as she walked by the exhibit. She flashed me a wink, to which I responded with an eyeroll.

“Shall we go?” Keanu asked, standing and grabbing his helmet off the table.

“Let’s hit the road,” I responded, grabbing my belongings and mentally slapping myself for the dumb phrase. He laughed, though, so maybe it wasn’t that dumb?

As we left the building, I struggled to keep up with his pace since his legs were so much longer than mine. Keanu took notice of the hasty clacks of the pumps on my feet, slowing down his steps until he didn’t see me struggling anymore.

“Sorry, I always forget to account for that,” he uttered an apology.

“Don’t worry about it,” I waved my hand at him.

We approached his bike, his keys already in hand so he could unlock his spare helmet from the seat. He set his own helmet on the seat, busying himself with the spare one while I waited.

“Here you go,” he handed it to me.

“Ooh, you got a Sena 30k,” I stated excitedly, referring to the intercom on the bottom side of his helmet.

“Yea, it’s awesome. I use it a lot when I ride with the guys at Arch,” he explained, turning both on and setting up a private chat.

“I have one, too. Oh yea, that’s right, you founded a motorcycle company,” I nodded, remembering hearing about it.

“Co-founded, yea,” he corrected, wanting to give credit to his business partner. He slid the helmet over his head, which prompted me to do the same.

He threw his leg over the bike and started it, the sound echoing throughout the parking structure. I took a breath to ease my nervousness before climbing on behind him. I stepped as securely as possible on the passenger foot pegs and wound my arms loosely around him, trying not to touch him too much.

“You’re gonna need to hold on a lot tighter than that,” his voice rumbled over the speaker.

“Well, don’t drive like a maniac, and I’ll make it in one piece!” I scoffed back.

“You can’t complain about a free ride, Y/N,” he joked, taking off slowly.

I eventually feared for my life enough to properly hold on to him, giving him directions to my apartment along the way. We rolled to a stop light, watching parallel traffic zip by us. Keanu took the opportunity to sit a little straighter and let his hands rest. He absentmindedly dropped his hand to where mine wrapped around his midsection. It was a gentle skim over the top of my hand, but caught my attention, thinking he had asked me something and I didn’t hear him.

“Hmm?” I responded.

“What?”

“I thought you were trying to get my attention,” I pushed my hand further into his to emphasize my point.

“No, I was…um…” he trailed off, his train of thought vanishing. He let out a nervous chuckle, “Sorry.”

“You’re fine. Don’t apologize,” I murmured, feeling my face heat up inside the helmet. I hadn’t removed my fingers from his, instead letting a couple of his fingers slide through mine and squeezing them gently. He squeezed back, his hand engulfing mine too easily.

The light turned green, his hand disappearing quickly to take off before the cars around us did. We pulled up to my apartment building and I directed him to a temporary parking spot, so I could go change. I maneuvered off the bike, trying my best not to kick him in the back. He took his helmet off and hung it on one of the handlebars while he waited.

I handed him the borrowed helmet, not releasing it right away as I started speaking, “Do you want to come up while I change?” He was extremely silent at the question. “Not like—I mean so you don’t have to wait in the cold and—I don’t know—you can meet Sage.”

He covered his mouth as his teeth were bared in a laugh, “Yea, sure.”

He turned his motorcycle off and reattached the spare helmet to his bike. He grabbed his helmet and followed me inside the building, attempting to smooth his hair down with his hand but failing. I unlocked my door and pushed it open slowly, knowing Sage liked to wait near it and I didn’t want to smack him like I have in the past. I was greeted with a soft meow as Sage rubbed himself along the wall next to the door.

“There’s drinks in the fridge if you’re thirsty,” I turned my head to where Keanu stood behind me and pointed toward the kitchen. He shut the door behind us and followed me down the hallway. “Go ahead and sit wherever you want, I’ll be right back.”

He nodded, standing in the hallway and entranced by the artwork hung there. I stared at his form standing in my hallway, taking in the works like his eyes were starving. I disappeared into my room to change and left him to his thoughts. Keanu was pulled out of the artworks by Sage rubbing along his legs and weaving in between them. He smiled down at Sage, squatting down to let Sage smell his hand. Sage pushed his head into Keanu’s palm, begging to be pet. Keanu grunted softly as he sat on the floor, up against the hallway wall, next to the door. He crossed his legs and cradled his helmet in the hole his legs created so that the bottom of the helmet faced upwards. Sage stepped on Keanu’s leg with his two front paws, pushing further into the scratches Keanu offered him. Sage took the helmet as a silent offering and sniffed around the padding before stepping inside.

“No, buddy—,” Keanu tried to gently pull him away from the helmet, but Sage was determined and slithered his entire body into the helmet. “Okay, then, go ahead,” Keanu gave up and chuckled as he stuck his hand in the helmet. Sage pawed back at his hand, unable to decide between that and licking Keanu’s finger.

Keanu’s head snapped up as he heard my bedroom door open, seeing me step out in a leather jacket, dark jeans, and a pair of Doc Martens that I used for riding. I held my helmet loosely with my fingertips, laughing when I met Keanu’s gaze and dropped my eyes to where Sage had poked his head out of Keanu’s helmet.

“He likes to sleep in my helmet sometimes, so I have to vacuum the inside often,” I confessed. “You can just dump him out,” I giggled softly as I watched Keanu try and coax Sage out of the helmet.

Sage finally got annoyed with the disturbance and jumped out. I held my hand out to Keanu to help him up his feet.

“Thanks,” he grunted as he stretched his legs out.

“You could have sat on the couch,” I laughed, knitting my eyebrows together at his choice of seating. I started walking to the front door, hearing Keanu following me.

“I didn’t want to inconvenience him,” he joked, letting a short laugh escape his lips.

I locked the door as we exited, double checking the knob before leading the way back to the elevator.

“You look beautiful by the way,” he complimented me with a soft, low voice.

My face grew red for the hundredth time today, causing me to stumble over the words of my response, “Uh--,” I laughed nervously, “thanks, it’s just what I wear when I ride.”

“Doesn’t change the fact,” he simply stated and glanced over at me and my attempt to hide the blush.

We exited the elevator and connected our intercoms before splitting up to our own vehicles.

“I’ll meet you right here,” I told him, pointing to the spot I had him park in as I jogged of to get by motorcycle out of its parking spot.

I pulled up next to him, watching him lift his visor and peek at my motorcycle, “Is that a Triumph?” he asked, letting his eyes scan over the body.

“Why yes, it is, Mr. Reeves,” I punctuated with a quick rev of the engine.

“I’m more of a Norton man, myself,” he responded with his own engine, shaking his helmeted head at the little engine war. “I know a nice, little area off PCH we can head to in Malibu,” he suggested.

“That sounds good,” I nodded.

He took off with me following close behind, eventually pulling up next to him so that we both occupied the same lane. We cut through the tail end of rush hour traffic, trying to beat the next rush as people would start pouring into the city since it was a Friday night.

“So, are any of those paintings of yours for sale?” his voice sounded through the helmet.

“Yes, actually. We start selling tomorrow, so prices will be posted.”

“Gotta pay the bills.”

“No kidding. The prices are so much higher than I’m used to my stuff being sold for that I’m donating half of what I get for them.”

“Really? What organization?” he asked curiously.

“I’m leaning toward War Child. I don’t know if you’ve heard of it before.”

“I have, yea. I mainly donate to SCORE and my own foundation,” he revealed, not dropping the name of the foundation purposely.

“That’s awesome, I didn’t know you had your own foundation,” I said with a hint of awe in my voice.

“That’s the point,” he chuckled. “I don’t want the recognition.”

“I can respect that.”

“Keep an eye out for this car right here,” he pointed to a car that was swerving in and out of the lane next to us, but slightly further ahead. We were slowly catching up to the car, though, so Keanu took charge of the situation. “Wait ‘til they move to the right and then gun it, I’ll catch up.”

I accelerated, passing the car effortlessly and slowing down slightly to wait for him. I glanced in my right mirror, seeing him trying to get the driver’s attention by waving. He flashed them an “ok” symbol and then a thumbs up, trying to see if they were alright.

I heard him sigh over the intercom and his bike approach behind me until he was next to me again, “Drunk driver.”

We continued on, passing Santa Monica, and continuing north. The topic shifted from charity to me as he asked me how I fell in love with art, if and where I went to college. I reciprocated with questions of my own, probably things I could have Googled, but it was nicer to hear it from the man himself.

“We’re gonna get on this turnout in about a mile,” he indicated to the left, where there would be a turnout that overlooked the water. The loose gravel and dirt crunched under our wheels as we rolled onto the turnout, shutting the bikes off and flicking the kickstands out. I took my helmet off with a groan as my scalp was allowed to breathe again; shaking my hair out so it fell back into place. I hung the helmet on my handlebar, watching Keanu take his helmet off.

“Nice hair, dude,” I giggled at his hair sticking straight up in the air, following the direction his helmet was taken off.

“Hey, I can’t just shake my head and make my hair all pretty again,” he patted the top of his head. “At least not until it grows back.”

I swung my leg over and hopped off the seat, leaning against the railing that kept people from climbing down the small cliff. The railing consisted of two rungs at the top and middle, so I sat in the dirt and let my feet hang over the edge of the cliff while resting my arms on the middle rung. I crossed my arms and laid my chin down on them as I listened to the ocean. Keanu sat a couple inches from me, close enough to hear him breathe but not touch him. He let his arms rest on the rung, breathing in the ocean breeze.

“I’m in love with this sound,” I sighed, turning my head toward him and closing my eyes.

“Me, too,” he smiled at the ocean, lettings his hands hang over the rung.

I straightened up so my back wouldn’t ache, letting my hands mimic his and hang over the drop. My elbow brushed his as my arm fell into place, our pinky fingers touching each time one of us shifted or breathed. His pinky and ring finger reached out to mine, letting the pads of his fingers brush over the top of my hand. When I didn’t retract my hand, instead twitching my fingers toward his, he threaded those two fingers between my own. Our hands hung loosely together by two fingers, the warmth from his hand transferring to mine and up my arm.

“Do you surf?” he asked, breaking the silence around us.

“No, I think it’s awesome and it would be cool to learn. It’s always just scared me a little, so I never gathered the courage to. You?”

“Yea, occasionally, but I love it almost as much as riding,” he answered wistfully. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Hey, that is _not_ a fair question! Like at all,” I scoffed. “That’s like me asking you to pick a favorite character or something.”

“Okay, okay, I concede,” his throaty laugh filled the salty air while he held his free hand up in defense.

We sat talking for what felt like twenty minutes but ended up being a little over an hour. Neither of us having moved an inch except for the occasional back stretch. I shivered as the temperature grew colder and the breeze permeated through any opening it found in my jacket. At least while riding, the adrenaline helped to keep you warm.

“Wanna head out? I know a quiet bar near your place,” he suggested.

“You can pick something halfway between ours, I don’t mind the drive,” I shrugged, assuming we didn’t really live anywhere near each other.

“You’re closer to me than you think, so it’s really not out of my way,” he promised.

“Alright, then” I nodded, missing the warmth of his hand immediately as the cool air erased any traces of his skin ever touching mine.

I followed his directions back near my place, recognizing the bar he was talking about as he mentioned the cross streets. I had been there a couple times before, but obviously never saw him there. He talked about it as if he went there to unwind on occasion, so maybe I’d go there more often if his presence was expected. We elected to take our helmets inside with us to avoid any possible theft and found two seats at the bar.

The bartender recognized him and came right over to us, “Hey, man, welcome back.” He shook Keanu’s hand and nodded to me, “Can I see your ID?”

I jokingly placed my and on my chest in surprise before fishing my wallet out, “I’m flattered, really.” The bartender shook his head, laughing while looking my ID over, “And what about him? Dude’s like sixteen,” I waved my hand to Keanu.

“Yea, going on fifty,” he dug sarcastically at himself.

The bartender just chuckled at the exchange and handed me my ID back, “What can I get you, guys?”

Keanu looked expectantly at me to order first so I ordered something easy that wouldn’t get me tipsy, “Uh, Corona. Cold glass, extra limes.”

“Guinness, same tab,” Keanu ordered and watched the bartender get to work. “That was oddly specific,” he teased as the bartender brought the drinks, Keanu’s already poured in a cold glass.

“Are you judging me right now?” I asked in mock offense.

Keanu nearly choked on his first sip as I asked the question. I grabbed lime slices, squeezing them into the glass before pouring the beer in.

“It was _just_ an observation,” he replied, equally as silly.

“I’m just not a big beer drinker, so I stay with pretty pale stuff. I just didn’t want to order a spirit and risk not being able to drive home, you know?” I shrugged, bringing the glass to my lips.

“I’m just giving you a hard time,” he playfully bumped my shoulder with his arm.

Our drinks disappeared too quickly, but one was more than enough to make up for the missed drink from earlier when paired with our little adventure. We attempted to kill a little more time, fiddling with our empty glasses and blushing slightly when we caught each other. After the third embarrassed, but mirth-filled glance we called it a night and walked back to our bikes.

“I had a great time,” Keanu started as we stopped in between our respective bikes. “I’m, uh, I’m glad I was finally introduced to you,” he gave me a soft smile and stuck his hand out for me to shake.

“Likewise,” I said as I took it, “I didn’t even know you existed.”

He squinted at me in humored confusion.

“No—well—I mean I _knew_ you existed. _Obviously._ I didn’t know you existed as Becca’s friend, I meant,” I stumbled over my words, groaning when I finally got the words out. “I’m sorry, I’m so awkward.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured, still smiling, and finally released my hand from his. He took a step back toward his bike, biting his lip briefly to try to hide a smile, “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Maybe, you will,” I nodded, sitting on my bike and taking my helmet in my hands.

“Let me know when you get home, okay?” he asked while grabbing his own helmet.

“Only if you do the same,” I propositioned, sliding my helmet on.

I could tell he smiled at the comment, from under his helmet, as the corners of his eyes crinkled. Our bikes started at almost the same time, creating a louder than normal rumble. I took off first, waving with one hand and watching him wave back before I made my way out of the parking lot with a goofy smile hidden under my helmet.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Keanu have a couple more dates after the first encounter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got away from me and I never got to write what I originally was going to write, so that’ll be in Ch. 4.

After our impromptu first date, Keanu had come back to the art show and bought _Freedom_ for far more than was listed. I scolded him for it and complained endlessly but he laughed it off every time.

Our second date was planned a week or so later when he called me during the week and invited me to dinner. We had talked a few times before the date, which only served to leave me more excited to see him again. He paid for dinner, making me want to scold him yet again but he insisted. His hand held mine gently, with an exploratory touch throughout the night while we were open and honest with one another. He dropped me off back at my apartment complex and had walked me upstairs. We had shuffled our feet and twiddled our thumbs before he made the first move and took my hand. He coaxed me closer to him and I gladly stepped into his warm embrace. I wrapped my arms around him, breathing in his scent before we bid our goodbyes.

I offered to cook him dinner for our third date after he confessed to me that he didn’t cook for himself very much. I was determined to “wow” him and chose dishes I was confident I was exceptional at. I picked up two of the best filets I could find, as well as ingredients for a marinade, a special mac n’ cheese, and a haphazardly snatched bundle of green beans to cut through the food coma I was about to prepare.

I paused with my hand on a can of chilies, wracking my brain through every conversation I had with him to determine if we had talked about spicy food or not. After standing in a lady's way for the better part of a few minutes, I pulled my phone from my pocket.

“ _Hey, are you okay with spicy?_ ” I asked him in a quick text.

“ _Food? Absolutely,_ ” Keanu responded surprisingly fast.

“ _I mean, what else would I have been talking about?_ ”

“ _No comment…_ ”

My eyes widened as a blush crept up to my cheeks. I swear, this man. I shook my head while biting my lip, feeling the agitation radiating off the lady next to me.

“ _I just want you to know, you’re contributing to this lady hating me for being in her way._ ”

“ _A burden I’m willing to bear._ ”

I finished up my shopping and headed straight home to prepare for dinner. I set the steaks to marinade while I cleaned my apartment nervously. I decided to work out some of my nervous energy by throwing on music and sketching for a while to clear my head, making sure to set an alarm so I could shower and start cooking.

I shower and change, hoping that the shirt and jeans I throw on are good enough considering it’s my apartment. I’m just about to start cooking when my phone buzzes on the counter. I grab it, thankful that I hadn’t touched any of the food yet.

“ _Finished my errands early. Is it alright to head over now?_ ”

In all fairness, Keanu would only be a half hour early and who was I to deprive myself of an extra half hour with him. I responded and got back to work. I was nearly finished with cooking when I noticed Sage trotting over to the front door. There was a knock, causing me to frantically move my pot of cheese to a cool burner and wash my hands. I jogged to the front door and opened it with a breathless huff and a wide grin as my eyes landed on Keanu’s face. My eyes travelled down, seeing a leather jacket adorning his shoulders and dark jeans.

“Hey! Come in, come in,” I waved him in and shut the door behind him. “I’m almost done, I just have to do one more thing.”

Keanu smiled at my nervous energy, grabbing my hand before I could take off, “Two more things,” he corrected.

I bit my lip, feeling my face heat up when I realized what he meant. I wrapped my arms around him, taking a leap and gently pressing my lips to his cheek, “Sorry.”

“Just relax,” he chuckled and kissed my cheek with his scruffy face. He shrugged his jacket off and hung it on the hooks next to my front door, revealing a well-fitting V-neck. He set his helmet and backpack next to mine on the entryway table before turning back to me.

“Come on,” I led him to the kitchen.

Sage weaved in between his legs as he walked, causing him to stop and pick the needy cat up. Keanu gave Sage love for a little while before putting him back down and peering over my shoulder as I mixed the noodles in the cheese sauce.

“Wow, this smells amazing,” he claimed, while his eyes travelled over the stove. “I’ve never seen red mac n' cheese before.”

“Well, it’s _awesome_ , _spicy_ , and a little _Mexican_ ,” I smirked over my shoulder as I finished. “Pick a drink,” I nodded toward the refrigerator, “I’ll have whatever you have.”

He pursed his lips while looking between the food and the contents of the fridge. His face perked up as he spotted a bottle of red wine, his voice dropping into a low purr as he reached for it, “Ooh, come to daddy.”

I nearly choked as I heard the words leave his mouth, stifling a giggle with the back of my hand.

“What?” he asked, seemingly oblivious but with a small smirk pulling at his lips.  He closed the fridge, clutching the bottle in one hand while looking for the wine opener with his free hand.

“Nothing,” I shook my head, still laughing to myself. I pointed to the drawer that contained the opener while grabbing two plates from the cupboard. I pulled out two wine glasses and set them down in front of him, before busying myself with serving the plates.

I set the plates on the counter next to a pile of chopped cilantro and limes. “I wasn’t sure how you felt about these, so I’ll let you decide what you want,” I gestured toward the garnishes while grabbing a generous amount for myself.

I snagged the bottle on my way to the table, seeing Keanu follow with the glasses in his free hand. I was almost relieved when we started eating and he made sounds of praise toward the food. He caught me staring at his reactions a few times and would hide his smile by taking a sip of wine.

“Man, that was good,” he sighed happily, sitting back in the chair and patting his stomach.

“There’s plenty more,” I waved to the kitchen.

“No, no I can’t even breathe,” he chuckled, finishing the last of the wine.

I watched his tongue gather the remnants of the wine off his lips, making it my turn to blush when I noticed he was watching. As expected, he stood to gather the empty plates and utensils.

“Stop,” I whined, drawing the “o” out, “I’ve got working limbs.” I held the plate firmly between my fingers.

“Mine are longer,” he responded with a hint if mirth in his voice, tugging on the plate.

“I can see that,” I let my gaze drop down his form for a minute. I stood and pried the plate from his fingers, following him back to the kitchen.

“At least let me help wash some of this,” he pleaded.

“I can do it later,” I waved at the sink.

“That milk-crusted pot says otherwise,” he smirked.

“Fine,” I shook my head at him. “Scoot over,” I murmured while bumping my hip purposely against his. He chuckled, responding by bumping his arm against mine.

Keanu was down to the last pot, while I dried off the one before it. He sloshed the soapy water a little too roughly, causing it to splash over onto where our shirts met the counter.

“Keanu!” I shrieked and jumped back slightly at the feeling of the warm water seeping through my shirt.

“I’m sorry!” he laughed.

I scowled playfully at him, wetting my hand under the faucet and splashing droplets at his face with a flick of my fingers. He reciprocated the childish action, his droplets being significantly bigger than the ones I produced.

“No!” I whined before a laugh ripped from my throat. I let the pot clatter on the counter while I backed away from him and wiped my face.

Keanu let the pot in his hands rest in the sink before slapping the lever of the faucet into the “off” position. He stalked over to me with his wet hands curled like claws and playful growls emitting from his throat. He flicked water at me again, causing me to attempt to turn and run while yelping. Wet fingers circled around my forearm before I could go anywhere and suddenly, I was flush against his chest. By now, my body was infected with laughter and I couldn’t stop. His considerably deeper laughter was music to my ears, and I wanted to listen to it forever. I felt the vibrations of his laughter in my chest, which soon died off and prompted me to open my eyes and peer at him.

Keanu's eyes were warm and soft while his grin was replaced by parted lips. My arms were trapped in between our bodies, so I removed them and wound them hesitantly around his lowered neck. One of his hands splayed across my mid back while the damp skin of his other hand met my jaw. I licked my lips, watching his eyes flash down to the movement. As if we were magnets, our mouths gravitated toward each other until I could feel his lips skim mine. I pressed my mouth more firmly against his, relishing the way his fingers pressed into my skin. I let my hands drop to his jaw, sighing contently as his lips closed over my bottom lip. I felt the pressure of his lips dissipate as he pulled his head back. My eyes fluttered open while my lips formed a smile to mirror his.

“More?” I asked.

“Please,” he nodded before my lips were back on his.

Keanu pressed his body flush against me and softly backed me into the counter. His lips were gentle as we took our time getting acquainted with the feeling of one another. I dropped my hands to his waist, fisting the wet material of his shirt as his tongue ran across the seam of my lips. I parted my lips and allowed my tongue to meet his, feeling myself grow giddy at the touch. I let out a whisper of a moan at the slide of his tongue against mine, mixed with the feeling of him pressed against me.

Keanu’s lips separated from mine, letting his forehead rest against my own as we panted. He flashed me an embarrassed smile, “We should probably stop.”

“Probably,” I nodded and waited for him to step back.

We waited out Keanu's diminishing buzz from the wine by throwing on a movie and sinking into the couch. We spoke over the majority of the movie, too interested in one another to truly pay attention to the television. I try to stifle a yawn, making me wonder how late it even was.

“I should let you get some sleep,” Keanu announced, slapping his thighs in emphasis. He removed his arm from the back of the couch, where his fingertips had played with the top of my shoulder. “I’ve kind of been sober for a while, now,” he confessed.

“I wasn’t going to kick you out the second you became sober!” I shook my head, shoving his shoulder playfully.

Keanu just shrugged and threw his hands up with a huge grin, “I was having fun, I didn’t want to chance it!”

“I was having fun, too,” I laughed, taking in the way his eyes brightened when he was enjoying himself.

We eventually got up, nearly bypassing the kitchen before I stopped him, “Do you want to take leftovers? That pot by itself can last me for two weeks and I don’t think it’s meant to last that long.”

“Really?” he asked hopefully.

“Of course! I wouldn’t force you to come back just for me to make more,” I laughed, grabbing a Tupperware small enough to fit in his backpack comfortably.

“I wouldn’t mind,” he murmured, grabbing the handle of the pot and helping me.

My face heated up from his words and the warm cheese being exposed. I sealed the container and handed it to him as we exited the kitchen.

“I really appreciate it,” Keanu held the container up as a reference before securing it in his bag.

“Any time,” I shrugged lightly, wringing my fingers together.

He moved to grab his belongings before glancing at me and thinking twice. He strode back over to me, my arms opening automatically to accept him. I pressed my face into his chest, completely relaxing into his arms.

“Can I ask you something?” I felt him murmur against the top of my head.

“What’s up?” I wondered, pulling my head back and looking up at him.

“How, um,” he took a deep breath, mustering up any courage that disappeared the second I looked at him, “how would you feel about this moving forward?”

“Like a relationship?”

“Yea,” he nodded, letting his fingers press anxiously against my back. He chuckled softly, “You’re turning me into a nervous twenty-year-old again.”

I let a nervous smile adorn my lips, “I’d like that.”

“Really?” his tone of voice switched to a more hopeful one.

“Yes,” I laughed softly, “Are you sure?”

Keanu's hand came up to the side of my neck, letting his thumb brush across my jaw, “I’m positive.”

I raised myself on my toes, meeting him halfway in a sweet kiss. I didn’t immediately pull away, instead diving back into the taste of his lips. The hand he had planted on the side of my neck curled around the back of my neck, his thumb dropping to caress the front side of my throat. His lips took their time separating from mine, not wanting to let go but knowing it would be for the best.

“Text me when you get home,” I requested and tilted my head while staring up at his warm gaze.

“I will,” he grinned, pressing another gentle kiss to my lips before reluctantly separating himself.

He gathered his things while I opened the door, stopping briefly to pet Sage, who had jumped on the entry table. He stopped in front of me before exiting, bidding me goodnight and sealing it with another stolen kiss.


End file.
